The Phantom's Musketeer
by Lyssita Lennon
Summary: According to legend, there's a phantom lurking below the palace causing mischief and plotting revenge against those who would defy him. As a maid in the palace, Corinne D'Artagnan thinks nothing of the old story. But when a masked man offers to train her, she may start to believe in ghosts.*Cover image drawn and used with permission by Spirit Ella. Phantom of the Opera AU.
1. Paris

Chapter 1. Paris

Seventeen year old Corinne D'Artagnan looked up at the palace in awe. Today was the day. She'd been training her whole life for this.

_The day she would finally become a musketeer._

Her father had been a great musketeer. He would come home with stories of adventure and daring rescues and sword fights. Corinne would sit in his lap and listen, or they would fence with the ends of broomsticks, laughing wildly when they would accidentally break. He taught her everything she knew and she hoped to make him proud by following in his footsteps.

She took a deep breath and confidently strode into the captain of the musketeers office.

...

_Unbelievable!_ Corinne stomped through the castle gardens. Her meeting with Monsieur Treville had not gone as she'd expected. Her training was good, he had said, but not good enough. Besides, there simply were no female musketeers.

Besides his skills with a blade, another thing Corinne had inherited from her father was his temper. She trampled flowers as she fumed, crushing lilacs and daffodils under her feet. She was about to turn on the rose bush when a plump, red-haired woman caught her by the arm and dragged her inside.

"You," she spat, "you are late."

"Uh, pardon?"

"Are you not my new maid?"

"Maid?" Corinne asked incredulously "I came here to be a musketeer."

The woman laughed. "There are no female musketeers. Now, do you want a job or not?"

Corinne's blood boiled. How dare this woman speak to her that way! She opened her mouth to decline, then quickly shut it. She could go back to the farm; her mother would welcome her with open arms. Or she could stay in Paris and fight. She wasn't going to give up that easily. She would be a musketeer.

"Well?" The woman's foot tapped against the tile.

"Yes, Madame. I accept."

"Excellent. Come with me."

Neither woman noticed the figure watching silently from inside the far wall. His brown eyes burned with intrigue as he recalled the blonde girl's words.

"_I came here to be a musketeer."_

With a flourish of his cape, he descended into darkness.

_..._

_Written for Spirit Ella's birthday, so Happy Birthday, Spirit Ella! (Even if I am like 6 months late.) This chapter is kind of short and not a lot happens, but just you wait. I have an awesome storyline planned out. Hope you enjoy! Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. _


	2. Ghost Stories

Chapter 2. Ghost Stories

Over the next couple of weeks, Corinne found life as a palace maid wasn't as horrible as she'd anticipated. The work was fairly easy and the pay was decent; the chambers she and her fellow maids shared was spacious and had a lovely view, so she had little to complain about.

Corinne adored the other maids. The four of them had gotten off to a rocky start, but soon enough found themselves giggling over silly things like most girls would. Renée was strong and intelligent. If any of the girls needed advice, she was who they would turn to. Poised and a little sassy, Viveca had quite the eye for fashion. A tear in their uniforms would last no longer than a few hours under her supervision. Aramina had the grace of a prima ballerina and a romantic's soul. She often told of the stories and legends surrounding Paris and the ancient castle while they worked.

However, Corinne did not tell her friends about her dreams to be a musketeer out of fear of being scolded or ridiculed.

They were cleaning the ballroom for an event later that night.

"Corinne, have I told you the legend of the Palace Phantom?"

"Oh no," Renée groaned.

"Here we go again." Viveca shook her head.

Corinne looked up from her work. "The Palace Phantom?"

"Yes," Aramina said ignoring her complaining friends. "The legend tells of a mysterious being living beneath the palace. He walks in shadow and the catacombs are his dominion."

"But why is he called a phantom?"

"Because," Aramina's voice lowered, "no one has ever really seen him. And those who claim to have seen him, say he has two faces instead of one. Half the most handsome man you'll ever see."

"And the other half?"

"Like that of a corpse."

Corinne gasped. Renée rolled her eyes.

Aramina grinned. "He keeps it covered with a white mask. That's where the name phantom comes from. It is also said that he is responsible for the disappearance of Prince L-"

"Aramina, hold your tongue!" Madame Hélène, the elderly groundskeeper scolded. All four girls flinched; she had come out of nowhere. "You will find that prudent silence is wise."

"Yes, Mama. I am sorry."

"Good. Now all of you, please return to your work. Silently."

"Yes, Mama."

Moments later a sort of chill filled the room. Aramina's head snapped up.

"He has eyes everywhere," she whispered as if she was in a trance. "Always watching. Always listening." Her chin fell and she continued working.

"What the hell was that, Aramina?" Renée hissed.

"What do you mean?"

"That whole 'Phantom is watching you' business you just said."

"I did no such thing!"

"Oh, yes you did. We heard you."

Viveca nodded. "Oui."

"You did, Aramina." Corinne added.

"I did not!" Aramina protested, tears filling her eyes. "Mama told me to stop, so I did!"

"You're lying!"

"I am not!"

"Quiet! Someone's coming!"

Each girl diligently threw herself into her work.

Count Philippe strode into view, Monsieur Treville trailing at his heels. "…and as you know my dear uncle has never been the same since cousin Louis passed aw-" He ran straight into Corinne. "You! Watch where you're-" He stopped abruptly.

"I'm terribly sorry, Your Grace." She offered.

His eyes ran over the blonde maid. Corinne suppressed the urge to shudder. "Oh, no Mademoiselle. The fault is entirely mine. Pardon me." He continued walking.

Aramina giggled. "Is he not the dreamiest?"

"Count Philippe?" Viveca asked, visibly disgusted. "He's easily twice your age!"

The red-head sighed.

There came a great snap and the grand chandelier plummeted down, narrowly missing the Count. The man in the shadows cried out in frustration. Shards of glass flew in all directions and using her broom as a sword, Corinne beat back the pieces headed in towards her. He gasped at her skill. Maybe this attempt hadn't been a waste after all.

The musketeers rushed into the ball room.

"What happened?"

"We heard a crash."

"Are you blind?" The Count shouted. "That chandelier barely missed me! Where were you?"

The musketeers said nothing.

"As I thought," he growled. "You four," he gestured to Corinne and her friends, "clean this mess at once!"

Count Philippe stomped from the room, muttering something about ghosts.

...

_I really love this chapter. Hope you all did too. See you next Friday! _


	3. Her Teacher

Chapter 3. Her Teacher

If there was one thing Louis hated more than anything else in the world, it that wretched, loathsome, pathetic excuse for a human being Count Philippe. His cousin.

_Cousin_. He spat the word. To think he was related to that vile creature. Louis shuddered. His hidden-blade belt mechanism hadn't worked. Poison hadn't worked. Dropping the chandelier hadn't worked! Philippe was craftier that Louis had anticipated. He both admired his skill and despised it. But Louis was even craftier. He had nearly ten years to perfect his technique. Philippe would pay for his misdeeds. And he knew exactly what to do next.

While the chandelier had failed him, Louis discovered something far more useful than a suspended death-trap. He had never really paid much attention to the palace staff, Madame de Bossé hired and fired so often he found it difficult to keep track of them, but from the moment the blonde maid arrived she intrigued him. She displayed intelligence. She showed ferocity. Despite her technique being quite sloppy, she knew her way with a blade.

He was going to teach her. Under him, she would become an excellent swordsman- even better than the musketeers; although, those fools were no better than she at the present moment. He grinned as the plan unfolded itself in his mind. No one would expect it. This started now.

Louis moved through the passageways swift and silent as an apparition. He chuckled to himself. How fitting they called him a phantom! He crossed under the garden and up the staircase to the staff quarters. _Come to me,_ he beckoned and on his flute, he played a haunting melody.

The red-haired maid never failed. Her light heart and mind so easily deceived. She stood in front of the mirror waiting. Louis clicked the mechanism open and the mirror slid aside. She stepped into the corridor.

"You called, master?"

"Yes, my dear." He cooed. "Tell me, what is the name of your fellow worker, the blonde one?"

"Corinne D'Artagnan, from Gascony."

_D'Artagnan._ He knew that name. A fine musketeer the man had been. That explained her skills.

"I wish to speak with her. Bring her to me. Tonight."

"Yes, master."

"Good. I will expect you within the hour. Now return to your quarters."

She moved back into the room and Louis once more crept through the darkness.

...

"Corinne."

The blonde groaned.

"Corinne."

She covered her face with a pillow.

"Corinne."

Her eyes flew open and she glared at her friend. "What on earth could you possibly want at this hour, Aramina?"

"Come with me." Mechanically, she rose from the bed.

"Excuse me?"

"Come with me." She lit a candle.

"Aramina, what are you talking about? Come where?"

She stood in front of the mirror. "Come with me."

"Aramina, this isn't fu-" The words died on her lips as the mirror moved to one side and Aramina stepped inside.

"Come with me."

Shaking, Corinne rose from her bed and followed. The mirror closed behind them.

"A secret passageway!" She gasped. "But where does it lead? Where are we going?"

"My master wishes to see you."

"I don't understand. Where are you taking me?"

Aramina simply kept walking. Corinne shivered, but went along. She didn't know how long they had been walking when Aramina finally stopped. A dissonant, eerie tune tickled her eardrums. Aramina looked quite pleased.

"I have brought her, master."

A man's voice rang out from the shadows. "Well done, my dear. You may return now. I will call for you when I am finished."

The red-head curtsied and disappeared into the passageways.

"Who are you?" Corinne demanded. "What have you done to Aramina?"

"Your friend is fine," the voice assured, soft as velvet. "Now, think fast!"

A sword sailed in Corinne's direction. The moment she caught it, a figure dressed in black leapt into the dim candlelight.

"En gardè, my dear!" He cried and lunged at her, blade in hand.

She parried his attack, followed with a swift riposte. He darted out from her reach and passed his sabre with her own. _He's good_, she thought, _but I'm better_. They danced back and forth. Patinado. Reprise. Mandritti. She couldn't remember the names anymore. Their blades caught in a bind and for a moment they stood inches apart, gazing as intently at one another as lovers. His lips twisted into a smile and he thrust her to the ground, effectively knocking the sword from her hand. The tip of his sabre hovered over the base of her throat.

"Your skill is impressive," he said, "but your technique is sloppy. Although, that shouldn't surprise me, you're from the country. No doubt you were trained in a barn."

Corinne opened her mouth to speak, but continued.

"You have courage though, I'll give you that. And half Treville's musketeers couldn't pull off what you just did. It's settled then. I will train you if you wish."

"You, what?"

He pulled her to her feet. "I will not repeat myself. If you wish to be a musketeer, I will provide you with the necessary skills."

"I hardly know you."

"That would resolve itself quickly, I'd imagine."

Corinne swallowed hard. "Will I become like Aramina?"

"Oh no. Your will is much too strong."

She shuddered.

His voice softened. "I will not hurt you if that is what you are afraid of. Don't you wish to become a better swordsman?"

She nodded. "And what is it you want from me in return?"

"I will teach you under one condition. You must pledge your absolute loyalty to me. You must carry out my orders without question or the slightest hesitation. You will drop everything and come if I call. Do we have a deal, Corinne D'Artagnan?"

"How do you know my full name?"

"It's like your friend said, I have eyes everywhere." She had not noticed the mask covering the right side of his face until that moment. Her heart felt as though it would leap from her chest. Still, this man and his offer intrigued her. She could almost imagine the look on Treville's face when she bested all of his musketeers.

"I accept."

"Excellent." He clapped his hands together. "We begin tomorrow night. Aramina will show you the way out."

"Will she remember any of this?" Corinne asked.

"No. To her, this is all a dream."

"All right." Corinne said wondering what she had just gotten herself into.

...

_This is one of my favorite chapters so far and I'm super excited to post it. See you all next Friday!_


	4. Stranger Than You Dreamt It

Chapter 4. Stranger Than You Dreamt It

In her three months working at the palace, Corinne had learned more about swordsmanship and fighting than she had in seventeen years of training back on her family farm. Her days were spent cleaning the corridors, then fencing with her teacher below into the wee hours of the night. It was exhausting. Some days she felt like quitting her midnight lessons, but then she remembered that musketeers never quit and she certainly wasn't about to simply because she was tired. In the end, she knew it would be worth it. Her teacher promised that much.

Corinne still did not know much about the man who now claimed lordship over her. He hardly spoke at all during their sessions unless it was to chastise her and he never once removed the porcelain mask covering the right half of his face. She often wondered if he was some sort of criminal and the mask helped to hide his identity, but then why not cover his whole face. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Perhaps he was just eccentric. She tried not to think about it as the mirror slid open.

He was not there.

Corinne's brow furrowed. He was never tardy to their sessions and would sharply scold her if she was even the slightest bit late. What if he didn't want to teach her anymore? Anguish washed through her. How would she become a musketeer now?

A dim, flickering light caught her attention. She moved towards it, though it was further down the passageway than she had ever been. The light seemed to beckon her.

He was there surrounded by countless open books, scribbling furiously in an open volume in front of him. He flipped the pages of a few books and wrote more.

"Teacher?" Corinne called. He did not turn. "I am here for my lesson."

He made no motions to suggest he had even heard her. His focus was entirely on the books he was reading.

Corinne dared to move closer. Still, he did nothing. A dangerous thought seeped into her mind and before she could stop herself, her hand tore away the mask.

An inhuman wail filled her ears as he advanced upon her. Corinne toppled backwards, eyes wide.

"Damn you!" He roared, his brown eyes wild. "Curse you!" He caught her by the wrists. "Is this what you wanted to see?!" The left side of his face was like any normal man, handsome even, but the right… Corinne gasped, stifling the urge to scream.

The skin was a deathly pale pulled taut over crooked muscles. His eyelid sagged and drooped, and Corinne swore his right eye was a lighter brown than the left. The right side of his nose collapsed in on itself. There was a deep gash on his forehead, exposing what she hoped wasn't bone, that looked as if it had never healed. His upper lip was swollen and distorted.

"Damn you," he said again, though much quieter, and released her. Corinne crept away from him quick as she could.

Another wail washed through the great underground corridor.

"Oh Corinne," he moaned, his face in his hands, shoulders hunched and shaking violently. It took her a moment to realize he was sobbing.

Pity swelled in Corinne's heart. Feeling rather guilty for what she had done, she inched towards her grief-stricken teacher, and with a trembling hand held the mask out to him. He snatched it greedily and replaced it, smoothing out his long dark hair.

"All right then," he cleared this throat and rose to his feet, pulling Corinne up with him. "You have to leave now. Our normal lessons will resume tomorrow night." He presented her a rose produced from thin air and took several steps back. Before she could blink, he was gone.

Corinne stood there feeling cold and alone, wishing it had all been a dream.

...

_Corinne, why would you do that? Poor Louis. He's got some strength if he still plans on teaching her after that. Do you think she'll come back? What's going to happen? _


	5. That Which Is In A Name

Chapter 5. That Which Is In A Name

Corinne spent the rest of that night tossing and turning in her bed, unable to lose herself in sleep. Each time she closed her eyes he was there standing over her, brown eyes burning with unforgivable rage, the scarred side of his face glaring at her unholy in the candlelight. She shuddered and pulled the coverlet her head.

Morning couldn't come fast enough.

For most of the day, Corinne worked alone. Madame Hélène asked her once if everything was all right and she simply nodded, prompting a highly suspicious look from the older woman. She let the subject drop, however, stating Corinne was needed in the ballroom. Broom in hand, she trudged slowly from the kitchens to the ballroom.

As she walked, her mind raced through the events of the previous night. Her wrists still throbbed from his fierce grip and his cry rang through her ears. A look of pure hatred twisted his already distorted features as he cursed her over and over. Corinne contemplated never going back. Sure, being a musketeer was her dream job, but her teacher was a right madman. She would be mad herself to return to him!

Perhaps she was mad. Those same eyes that scorched fear into her very being looked so sad, so broken. Almost like a frightened child. _In his eyes, all the sadness of the world,_ she thought. Perhaps she would return to him…

"Corinne!" Aramina called, pulling the blonde girl from her reverie. "Over here!"

"We're washing the windows today, so you won't need that," Renée said. Corinne shrugged and lay her broom against a wall. She retrieved a rag from the bucket on the floor, rung out the excess water, and set to work.

Viveca, who was washing the window beside her, gasped. "Corinne! What happened?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said as innocently as possible.

"Your wrists, Corinne. They're bruised pretty badly."

Aramina and Renée stopped what they were doing and looked.

"Oh, that. I, uh, don't know how that happened," Corinne offered pathetically.

"Are you sure?" Renée examined the garish purple markings. "It looks like someone grabbed you and squeezed hard."

Someone did, but she couldn't tell them that her disfigured fencing instructor flew into a rage after she removed his mask. They wouldn't believe her. "Yes, ah, I… Well, I, um-"

"Corinne," Aramina stopped her, "You don't have to say it. I understand. Your secret is safe with me."

Corinne's eyes widened. "You mean, you know?"

"Of course I do! It's _obvious_."

"It is?"

"Yes," the red-head giggled. Corinne's heart raced. He said she wouldn't remember! "But you have to tell me his name."

"W-W-What?" Corinne stammered.

"Your lover," Aramina said as if it was evident to everyone in the room. "You've been sneaking out every night to meet him."

Corinne's face grew hot. _That's_ what she thought? Her teacher was a dead man. Though, it made for a decent cover, better than anything she could come up with anyways, so Corinne went along with it.

"I can't tell you his name," her voice lowered. "It's better for the both of us that way."

Aramina squealed. "Ooh, Corinne this is so exciting! He's a member of the royal court, isn't he? But who?" She pranced around the room like a giddy child.

Renée shot Corinne a look that said, _"I hope you know what you've just gotten yourself into."_

Corinne nodded.

"I know!" Aramina gasped. "It's Count Philippe, right?"

Viveca groaned. "Not this again."

"What?"

Corinne tuned them out and continued cleaning.

...

Night fell over the city of lights.

Standing on front of the mirror, Corinne threw one last glance over her shoulder making sure her friends were indeed asleep. When they did not stir she clicked the mechanism that rolled the mirror from its usual place and stared into the passageway. She drew in a deep breath and retrieved the nearest candelabra before stepping into the dark tunnel. The mirror returned to its rightful place behind her.

The distance to the correct passageway seemed somehow shorter. Before she knew it, Corinne stood face to face with the man who called himself her teacher. He threw a sword in her direction and she almost didn't catch it.

"Now that you are here," he said without missing a beat, drawing his own blade, "we begin." He lunged forward.

Corinne dropped her sword and held her arms up in a gesture of surrender. "Wait! Please!"

"What?!" He spat.

"I'm sorry, all right! I didn't mean to remove your mask! I don't know what came over me! But I promise it will never happen again!"

He eyed her suspiciously. "You swear it?"

She met his gaze and fought back the urge to rush forward and take him into her arms. _In his eyes, all the sadness of the world._ "I swear."

"All right then. Let's begin."

"Wait!"

He groaned. _"Now what?"_

"I believe you owe me an apology as well."

"I most certainly do not." He crossed his arms against his chest.

"You most certainly do! Or do you not remember this?" She thrust her bruised wrists forward. He flinched. "Do you have any idea what I went through today because of these?"

He remained silent.

"Well?" She asked.

"Well, what?"

"Are you going to apologize?"

"You ripped my mask off!" He shouted. "I hardly find an apology on my account necessary!"

"I hurt you, I understand that now," her voice was calm and even. "I didn't mean to, so I apologized. And whether you meant to or not, you hurt me as well. Am I not entitled to some sympathy?"

He stared at her and she watched as the fire drained from his eyes, replaced by an inkling of affection. Corinne couldn't look away.

_Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore._

"All right," he grumbled halfheartedly, a smile tugging at the visible corner of his mouth. "I apologize for hurting you, Corinne."

"Thank you."

Now, that we've taken care of things," he unsheathed his blade once more, "we begin."

Corinne bit her lip. "One more thing?"

He sighed. "What?"

"Tell me your name."

He stiffened.

"Please? I'd like to think we were friends and friends call each other by their names."

Still, he did not relax.

"Teacher? I am so-"

"Louis," he whispered. "My name is Louis."

"Louis," she repeated, testing the name on her lips. He shivered. "Well Louis, let's begin."

...

_So, they've made up! And Corinne knows his name now. There's some epic things coming up. Oh and by the way, my awesome roommate and her partner are working on a new Anime called C.O.T.I. or Creatures of the Imagination. It's super awesome and I love it a lot, so go show some support and like their Facebook page! (Just searc and it should come up.)_


	6. What the River Knows

Chapter 6. What the River Knows

In the quiet hours of morning, before the dew has settled and the sun could rise, two lone figures stood on the mist clouded banks of the Seine. At their feet lay several large crates filled with various foods, fabrics, and a decent supply of parchment and ink.

"Surely Louis, you can think of better things to do with your time than terrorize my maids and felling chandeliers on unsuspecting, albeit deserving Counts," the smaller of the two figures said, tone scolding.

Louis chucked. "Indeed, Hélène. You may rest easy, however. My newest projects have been quite demanding." Already his mind drifted towards the cavern where his designs were. His fingers itched to test out the durability and weight of the new fabrics she had brought him.

"I see," Hélène's eyes narrowed. "And which of these projects include my daughter and her friend Corinne?"

Louis blinked in surprise.

"You thought I wouldn't notice, did you?" Hélène shook her head. "You of all people should know otherwise. I know everything that goes on in that castle. Now tell me, what you are doing that involves them."

"I thought you knew everything that goes on in that castle," Louis teased. The older woman glared at him. "All right. Your daughter is of use by simply spreading the stories. No one dares to explore the castle grounds because of her. Miss D'Artagnan, on the other hand, has indicated she wishes to join the ranks of the musketeers. I am merely providing her with the necessary skills to do so."

"Is that all?"

"Of course. I would never lie to you, Hélène."

"Is that so? Than perhaps you can tell me exactly how Corinne acquired those bruises?"

Louis cursed. _Damn her perceptiveness!_

"I swear Louis, if you are hurting either of them in any way-"

"Enough!" He shouted. "It was simply a… misunderstanding. We've already made our peace with it."

Hélène's arms crossed. "You still haven't answered my question."

"She removed my mask," Louis said through clenched teeth. "I lost my temper. By the time I realized what I was doing, it was already done."

"I see."

"I'm not proud of it, Hélène. I've hurt men far worse for far less. However, I promise you that no harm will befall our little Corinne while I am teaching her. Or any of your maids for that matter, whether it be by my hand or not."

"Our Corinne, is it?" Hélène smirked. "Do you have feelings for the girl?"

Louis snorted. "Is a teacher not allowed to care for the well-being of his pupil?"

"If that's what you prefer to call it," Hélène nodded. "Very well then. I believe I've a castle to tend to, if that's all."

"Right. Same time next week?"

"Of course, Monsieur Rousseau."

The two figures and their spoils disappeared into the mist. Above the river, the sun began to rise.

_..._

_Note: I have recently made a change to this story I regards to Hélène_ _and Aramina being mother and daughter. So, yes you've read that right. Previous chapters have been edited to reflect this change (really, only chapter 2 at this point.) The idea just kind of jumped out at me while I was writing chapter 7 and I liked it enough to keep it. Sorry for any confusion I may have caused. That being said, what do you think with new development? Is __Hélène __right? Is Louis totally avoiding the obvious here? I know the answer, but what do you think?_


	7. You Alone Can Make My Song Take Flight

Chapter 7. You Alone Can Make My Song Take Flight

Sleep seemed impossible for Louis. While he was physically exhausted from the day's work, his mind raced, dreaming up new designs and possibilities for his most precious project. The familiar urge to create caused his fingers to twitch. With a sigh he tossed back the coverlet and rose from his bed. Lighting a single candle, he strode barefoot down the corridor to the room that held all his designs. Immediately he immersed himself in what would become the greatest invention known to mankind.

A machine that would enable man to fly.

Louis traced the drawing with the tip of his finger. It was a simple device, really. A small furnace would heat up the surrounding air causing the fabric balloon to expand and rise, taking the furnace and attached basket with it. The only issue at the moment was figuring out the exact weight and size required of each item for a proper take off. He grinned. As soon as this mess with Philippe was over, he could work on his inventions uninterrupted. He flipped through the book some more, but found the designs could no longer hold his attention.

What would he do after Philippe was gone? Surely he wouldn't live under the palace anymore. Hélène had assured him on many occasions that the country estate he had purchased on a whim several years back was perfectly habitable, but he could hardly imagine himself living in a home surrounded by sunlight. And what of essentials like food and such? A normal man could go to the market himself, but Louis was not a normal man and relied on Hélène to bring him the things he needed. Of course, he could always ask Hélène and her daughter to come with him. He would have to stop using that flute on Aramina, though. It was fun when they were children, but now… Louis shook his head. He would not allow himself to dwell on such thoughts now. Wasn't he supposed to be working? He groaned and once more tried to focus on the designs.

This was going to be a long night.

...

Laughter echoed through the corridors.

Corinne danced back and forth, her blade slicing the air with practiced precision. Louis grinned. She had improved greatly since that first night. Of course, she was nowhere near as good as he, but her progress was quite pleasing. When the time came she would make a fine musketeer.

She lunged forward, her sword clashing with his own. Again Louis found himself immensely pleased with his protégé. She fought with such passion. It was a pity, however, that she did not pay close enough attention to her footing. Seconds later she was on the ground, chest heaving, blonde hair freed from its usual bun and cascading down her shoulders. Her blue eyes gazed intently into his.

The image before him changed and suddenly she was no longer on the ground, but sprawled across the sheets of his bed, dark eyes filled with desire, arms reaching out…

Louis rapidly shook his head and pulled Corinne to her feet.

"That will be all for tonight," he fought to keep his voice even. "You have to leave now."

"All right," she said, clearly confused but she did not argue. The moment she was out of sight, Louis ran.

He burst into his design room and tried to lose himself in the specifics of his flying machine. His hand flew across the paper, sketching the balloon he'd imagined hundreds of times. _This isn't happening,_ he told himself. _I'm dreaming. Any second now, I'll wake up._ But he wasn't sleeping, he soon realized.

Louis groaned. _How could I let this happen? I promised myself I wouldn't! _He looked down on the paper in his trembling hands. In exact detail, Corinne smiled at him.

"NO!" He roared before ripping the drawing to shreds. "I can't be- I'm not-" He wrestled with the words, fighting until he had no strength left to deny them.

He was in love with Corinne D'Artagnan.

Looking back, he didn't know how he hadn't seen it. It was so painfully obvious that even Hélène had figured it out before him. Louis cursed. If his feelings truly were that obvious did Corinne know? Oh God. What if she knew? His heart beat so rapidly he thought it would burst from his chest at any moment. No, he reasoned. Corinne couldn't know. She wasn't observant enough, not like Hélène. And she would never know. This would be the secret he'd carry to his grave. It made his leaving all the more necessary. Philippe would be gone, Corinne would be a musketeer, and he would be, well, he would be gone too. Tucked safely away in the country, far from prying eyes and far from Corinne.

...

_He can't deny it any longer! Now that Louis' realized his true feelings, how will he face Corinne? What if he does something stupid again? What do you think will happen?_


	8. An Offer She Can't Refuse

Chapter 8. An Offer She Can't Refuse

Corinne was dusting bookshelves in the library that morning. Completely lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice that she'd been dusting the same bookshelf for well over an hour. She was too worried to focus on her work.

Louis had been cancelling her lessons for a week now. The first night, she found the mirror wouldn't open and a note on her dressing table informing her of the cancellation. When she tried the following nights, the results were the same. Either Louis didn't wish to see her, or he was in some sort of trouble. Corinne disregarded the first option. He always seemed so pleased to see her and she was sure their time together was the only social interaction he got, so that couldn't be it. Right?

If Louis didn't want her around because he was in trouble, then what could she do besides wait? She shivered. She didn't want anything bad to happen to him. He was her friend and- Corinne felt her cheeks grow hot. She found it ridiculous that she had a crush on a man she hardly knew a thing about. Maybe if she didn't think about it too much…

"Corinne!"

She spun around to see Aramina rushing towards her.

"Aramina, what is it?"

"A ball, Corinne!" The red-head sighed. "A masquerade ball! Here! In two days!"

"You know this just means more work for us, right?" Corinne asked, but it was obvious Aramina wasn't listening. She twirled around the library and hummed a waltz. Corinne rolled her eyes and returned to her work.

"Mademoiselle?"

Corinne turned to see who was interrupting her this time and gasped, dipping quickly into a curtsy. "Your Grace."

Count Philippe smiled. "Good morning, my dear. I do not know if you've already been informed, but there is to be a masquerade ball in two nights' time and I would be delighted if you would accompany me."

"Me? Your Grace, I don't under-"

"My dear girl, think of this invitation as an opportunity to see what life as a princess could be like, also as an apology for nearly knocking you over while you were cleaning," Count Philippe said.

Corinne fought the urge to shudder. That happened nearly five months ago. She highly doubted he truly remembered bumping into her and hoped she was misreading his obvious intentions. But who was she to refuse royalty? With the prince gone, Count Philippe was next in line for the throne when the king passed. Plus with Louis continually cancelling her lessons, she would be free for the night. If he was doing so to avoid seeing her, then surely attending the ball would arouse his temper and he would demand she start training again. She smiled as at the thought of him possibly being jealous she was on another man's arm.

"Well, when you put it that way, I accept your invitation, Your Grace," Corinne said giving another curtsy.

"Excellent! Arrangements will be made for you tomorrow evening, mademoiselle, uh…"

"Corinne."

"Corinne," he repeated. "Until then, my dear." He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before exiting the library. Corinne released the shudder she'd been suppressing.

An almost inhuman screech told Corinne that Aramina had heard every word she and the Count has said. Corinne looked to her friend and was shocked to find tears in her green eyes.

"Aramina, what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just so excited for you. You're going to the ball! You know how I am," she smiled, but something about her tone seemed off. Perhaps it was that she was not used to seeing Aramina cry.

"May I please go tell Viveca and Renée?"

Corinne nodded and Aramina dashed out the library doors. Alone once more, Corinne resumed dusting.

...

_The masquerade chapters are some of my favorite chapters and I'm super excited to share them with you. Who else is super creeeped out by Philippe? Do you think maybe he suspects something or just wants to see the pretty blonde maid in his bed? What do you think Louis will do when he realizes Corinne's going to a ball with the person he hates most in the world? I say it's payback for cancelling Corinne's lessons, but he certainly won't think of it that way. What about you?_


	9. Masquerade

Chapter 9. Masquerade

True to his word, Count Philippe had sent several seamstresses to her quarters the next day. Corinne had spent the next couple of hours being poked and prodded as the women fitted an extravagant gown to her shapely frame. Now as the ball neared and she stared at her reflection in the mirror, Corinne almost didn't recognize herself.

Her blonde hair was done up in an elegant bun with a few loose ringlets framing her face. Cosmetics made her cheeks rosy and her lips crimson. Her blue eyes sparkled like the gemstones that adorned the bodice of her gown. The gown itself was gorgeous, even if the design seemed rather frivolous. In addition to the gems, it was frilly and pink with lace skirts that danced as she swayed her hips. The neckline scooped lower than she would have liked, but the tight lacings of her corset brought out her chest in what she was assured a most appealing manner.

Gone was the plain palace maid. In her place stood a princess.

Aramina squealed. "Oh Corinne, you look so beautiful!"

"Oui," Viveca agreed. "No one will be able to take their eyes off of you."

"You're just missing this," Aramina passed her a shimmering mask, covered in the same jewels as her dress. Corinne fastened it to her face and Aramina squealed again, prancing around the room excitedly. Viveca laughed and danced with her. Renée, who had been watching quietly, rose from her seat. She placed an arm around Corinne's waist.

"I've heard some rumors about the Count," she whispered. "It appears that even though he's next in line for the throne, none of the noblewomen wished to accompany him to the ball tonight. I believe "lecherous" and "appalling" were some of the words used to describe him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm just worried about his," she bit her lip, "intentions for tonight. I wanted you to know that he might see this as an invitation to try something."

"I see," Corinne said. The thought had crossed her mind several times tonight already. It didn't matter if he was next in line for the throne, a swift kick to the groin would expel any ideas he might have. She was not some cheap whore who could be bought. "Don't worry about me, Renée. I know what I'm doing."

"I hope so."

She would have said more, but another of Aramina's delighted squeals reached her ears.

"Look at that carriage!" She bounced excitedly and pointed out the window. Corinne smiled at her friends and took one last look in the mirror. She scowled at her reflection as if Louis could somehow see it. Satisfied, she stepped out into the night.

Aramina had been right to squeal. It was a grand carriage indeed, not only the exterior, but the interior as well. Plush seats cushioned her ride around the city as the Count did not wish for her to be seen coming from the staff quarters. They looped back around the palace and Corinne caught sight of Count Philippe waiting for her on the palace steps. She supposed he cut a dashing figure. From a distance, of course.

"You look stunning, my dear," he drawled, offering a hand to help her down from the carriage. She took it and inwardly cringed at the way his eyes raked over her figure, pausing quite noticeably on her chest. She resisted the urge to slap him. With a mask covering his face it wouldn't make much of a difference.

Corinne entered the ball on his arm and was instantly mesmerized by the splendor of it. Everything was large and ornate, from the glistening new chandelier to the polished instruments of the orchestra.

"Care to dance, my dear?" Count Philippe asked. Corinne nodded and they were soon gliding gracefully across the floor. She would have to thank Aramina once more for the impromptu dance lessons.

The evening continued in the same fashion. They would dance, he would fetch them something to drink, and they would chat briefly before dancing again.

It happened in the middle of her fifth dance with the Count. He was spinning her a little too forcefully and she lost her footing. She did not fall to the ground, however, instead toppled backwards into a man's strong arms.

"Mademoiselle, are you all right?" He asked mockingly. Corinne stiffened. She knew that voice.

_Louis._

_..._

_Look what you've done, Corinne! You forced poor Louis into a crowded room of stuck up people, including the person he hates most in the world. Though is she really to blame? Louis was cancelling their lessons. Let's just blame them both for now and call it even. (We could also blame Count Philippe, but that's not relevant, lol.) So, while you're yelling at me in reviews for ending the chapter there, you can also go check out this fabulous fanart done by KeelyKelly for this fic! In case the link doesn't show, and it probably won't because FF hates outside links, just head to deviantart and search "juliasinger". The piece is called "The Phantom of the Castle" and I love it so much. (You should check out her other art too because it's all awesome.) art/The-Phantom-of-the-Castle-520575871_


	10. Hide Your Face

Chapter 10. Hide Your Face So the World Will Never Find You

Louis was still holding her when Count Philippe walked over.

"So sorry, my dear," he said. "Too much wrist. You may return her to me now, Monsieur."

"I think not."

Count Philippe blinked several times, clearly surprised by his answer. "What? I don't believe you know who-"

"Oh, I know perfectly well who you are, Count," Louis spat the other man's title. "But I'm cutting in. Surely you can spare me one dance with the lady. Perhaps you'd care to fetch a drink?"

Count Philippe looked at Louis, then her, and back to Louis. "If you'll excuse me for a moment." He stalked in the direction of the punch bowl, throwing glances over his shoulder and muttering the entire time.

Corinne gulped. Louis spun her around to face him and they were soon swaying to the music. His brown eyes burned intensely into hers.

"I cannot believe that you would attend such a ridiculous event and on the arm of Philippe of all people!" He spoke through clenched teeth.

"Excuse me?" Corinne glared at him. "_You're_ the one who's been cancelling our lessons for the past week. And why is it your business who I'm here with? Are you jealous of Count Philippe, Louis?" A small part of her wished he was.

Louis growled, pulling her closer. For a moment she thought he might kiss her. Instead, he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her from the ballroom. They made quite a pair; she in her shimmering, jeweled gown and he in his garish red marshall's ensemble with a matching cape billowing behind him. His stark white mask was crafted to resemble a skull.

_La Mort Rouge. The Red Death, _Corinne realized.

Once they were out of sight, Louis touched a spot on the wall and it opened. He thrust her into the passageways. Corinne clawed at his arm, shouting curses as he continued to drag her. He merely huffed in annoyance, throwing her over his shoulder before continuing his descent.

He dropped her rather harshly in their training room.

"Louis offers to teach you!" He shouted, chest heaving. "To take you under his wing and guide you! And you betray him!"

"I have not!" Corinne screamed. "I've done everything you said! _You_ were the one cancelling our lessons!"

"You were with _him!_" He hissed.

"You mean Count Philippe?" Corinne was confused. "I don't see why that's an issue right now!"

"You belong to me!"

Corinne reached for a sword. "I am not you possession!" She lunged at him.

His cape fell from his shoulders. He pulled out a matching blade. "Yes!" He laughed maniacally. "Let us dance!"

With a resounding crack their swords met. Above them, the fireworks show had begun. For the most part Corinne dodged Louis' attacks. He swung wildly and with such force that when their blades touched, it sent reverberations throughout her entire body. She couldn't take much more of this. Seeing a chance, Corinne struck his forearm with her sword. Blood trickled to the ground.

Louis dropped his weapon. "That was a dirty move, D'Artagnan." He spat.

"You deserved it."

"I know."

Silence. She watched as the fire drained from his eyes. She also saw blood still flowing freely from the wound she'd caused. Feeling only slightly guilty, Corinne stepped towards him and began undoing the buttons on his jacket. Louis immediately jumped back.

"What are you doing?" He shrieked.

"Trying to help!" She explained. "I can't do anything about your wound with that ridiculous outfit in the way. Unless you'd prefer to bleed everywhere."

He continued to eye her suspiciously. Arms crossed, she tapped her foot waiting.

"All right," he sighed. "Fine. The washroom is this way." She followed him through the corridor, a triumphant smile on her lips.

Corinne was surprised by the size of the washroom. It was larger than she'd expected. A huge wardrobe sat opposite to an enormous tub against the far wall. There were taps on both the tub and sink, and she was shocked to find that he had running water below the castle. Another thing she observed was the explicit lack of a mirror. She shook the thought and set about her task, quickly dampening a rag.

When she turned to Louis, he had removed his jacket and shirt, both neatly folded on the countertop. She blushed a little at seeing his exposed chest and he smirked. Resisting the urge to hit him again, she touched the rag to the cut. Louis hissed.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay," Corinne said. "I wasn't thinking and-"

"Corinne, stop. You shouldn't be apologizing. I should. I was out of control and I let my temper get the best of me." He shuddered. "I hate to think of what I might have done if you hadn't snapped me out of it."

"How about we call it even?"

"Deal."

"One more thing though. What exactly is your problem with Count Philippe?" Corinne asked.

Louis shook his head. "That's a story I'd rather not get into at the moment."

"Fine. But you will have to tell me eventually."

"Not if I can help it."

...

At the masquerade ball, Philippe walked back to where he'd left his date and the strange gentleman, two drinks in hand. He would have liked to return sooner, but a conversation with Monsieur Treville and the fireworks display had detained him. He was eager to return to his date and perhaps inform the gentleman the proper way to address royalty. A few nights in the dungeon would certainly do the trick.

The gentleman was gone, however, and so was his date for that matter. Philippe cursed. A quick scan of the ballroom yielded no results. Neither were anywhere in sight. Refusing to be spurned by a mere maid, Philippe stalked out of the ballroom in search of the blonde maiden and her masked companion.

_..._

_Apparently there's a character limit for chapter titles. And this one broke it. :P That's why your notification only shows half the title. Anyways, I just really love this chapter. So many things happen! Corinne and Louis dance together. Louis may or may not have "kidnapped" Corinne from a formal event. Corinne practically stabs Louis. And Philippe gets ditched! What a night! Wonder if they'll be any serious repercussions to some of what went down...?_


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